He was already in bed before she completed her nightly grooming ritual. While not yet asleep, he was focused on the music searches he was doing on his iPod. No doubt playing obscure selections louder than necessary for the confines of a bedroom. He didn’t notice that she had gotten into bed without a stitch of clothing. An invitation, of sorts, that she’s ready to play. After an uninvited illness, their intimate encounters had taken a backseat.

She patiently lies on her stomach next to him. Willing him, in her mind, to reach out and begin masterfully explore every inch of her flesh. She wants him to initiate the encounter without explanation. Just for him to know exactly what she wants, which is to be felt, caressed, cherished in ways she never thought possible.

Shrouded in darkness, he cannot see that she is waiting for his touch. The music, now streaming through his ear buds, is unknown. Just before switching the iPod off, she brushes her fingers across the junction of her thighs. The moisture of her anticipation is building already.

She waits patiently for an indication that he may reach out and begin a slow, merciless journey from the tip of her nose to the soles of her feet. Instead, she realizes that he is slowly starting to drift off. A busy day will do that.

She flips around, lying on her back now and reaches over, blindly, for his arm. Her fingernails teasingly dig into.his skin before she pulls it over to her and welcomes his immediate fondling of her breasts. Slowly, he circles each nipple. Kneading them, one at a time with a hesitant touch. He’s not inexperienced, he just doesn’t know what she is seeking.

A thought crosses her mind in between the gentle caress, should this unspoken journey be assisted with along with a teasing text message to him. That would be too much effort and distract from his current touch. (That will definitely be something for the next time, prior to beginning.)

His hand drifts from her breasts, across her stomach to the top of her womanly posession. His hand lingers around her glistening kitty, circling her clitoris and occasionally dipping a finger, or two deeply inside. She wants him to keep going, especially the rhythm he was strumming at her clitoris, it was so inviting and wanted. Instead, he abruptly stops.

He gets out of bed and she turns over confused by the turn of events. She hears the familiar sound of clothing being removed, perhaps his underwear. He returns to the bed and is suddenly on top of her. His impressive erection pressing into her. While this is what she would normally welcome, this is not what she wanted. Not yet. She lets him know this too, quite possibly in a way that bruises his ego. He lies on his back and reaches for her hand to manipulate his manhood. Another blow is delivered to him, she refuses to offer him pleasurable satisfaction, he’s had more than his fill over the years, while she is still seeking her first. All play ceases, he storms off grumbling something under his breath leaving her unfulfilled, again, and confused.

He returns to bed and within a few minutes, his sleep has invaded their intimacy. A lot of scenarios of.what could’ve and should’ve been done swirl around her mind. The only thing she can do is log onto a website and write a story in the third person as to not appear as the one sexually frustrated by her lack of proper communication!

This is not how she had envisioned the night playing out but then again, nothing was really planned out.

I apologize, in advance if my pseudo fantasy left you all hanging. I am slowly peeling back layers of myself and lowering my inhibitions and still searching for my satisfaction!